Becket And Other Plays - novelonlinefull.com
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LADY GIOVANNA.
And yet I never saw The land so rich in blossom as this year.
COUNT (_holding wreath toward her_).
Was not the year when this was gather'd richer?
LADY GIOVANNA.
How long ago was that?
COUNT.
Alas, ten summers!
A lady that was beautiful as day Sat by me at a rustic festival With other beauties on a mountain meadow, And she was the most beautiful of all; Then but fifteen, and still as beautiful.
The mountain flowers grew thickly round about.
I made a wreath with some of these; I ask'd A ribbon from her hair to bind it with; I whisper'd, Let me crown you Queen of Beauty, And softly placed the chaplet on her head.
A colour, which has colour'd all my life, Flush'd in her face; then I was call'd away; And presently all rose, and so departed.
Ah! she had thrown my chaplet on the gra.s.s, And there I found it.
[_Lets his hands fall, holding wreath despondingly_.
LADY GIOVANNA (_after pause_).
How long since do you say?
COUNT.
That was the very year before you married.
LADY GIOVANNA.
When I was married you were at the wars.
COUNT.
Had she not thrown my chaplet on the gra.s.s, It may be I had never seen the wars.
[_Replaces wreath whence he had taken it_.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Ah, but, my lord, there ran a rumour then That you were kill'd in battle. I can tell you True tears that year were shed for you in Florence.
COUNT.
It might have been as well for me. Unhappily I was but wounded by the enemy there And then imprison'd.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Happily, however, I see you quite recover'd of your wound.
COUNT.
No, no, not quite, Madonna, not yet, not yet.
_Re-enter_ FILIPPO.
FILIPPO.
My lord, a word with you.
COUNT.
Pray, pardon me!
[LADY GIOVANNA _crosses, and pa.s.ses behind chair and takes down wreath; then goes to chair by table_.
COUNT (_to_ FILIPPO).
What is it, Filippo?
FILIPPO.
Spoons, your lordship.
COUNT.
Spoons!
FILIPPO.
Yes, my lord, for wasn't my lady born with a golden spoon in her ladyship's mouth, and we haven't never so much as a silver one for the golden lips of her ladyship.
COUNT.
Have we not half a score of silver spoons?
FILIPPO.
Half o' one, my lord!
COUNT.
How half of one?
FILIPPO.
I trod upon him even now, my lord, in my hurry, and broke him.
COUNT.
And the other nine?
FILIPPO.
Sold! but shall I not mount with your lordship's leave to her ladyship's castle, in your lordship's and her ladyship's name, and confer with her ladyship's seneschal, and so descend again with some of her ladyship's own appurtenances?
COUNT.
Why--no, man. Only see your cloth be clean.
[_Exit_ FILIPPO.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Ay, ay, this faded ribbon was the mode In Florence ten years back. What's here? a scroll Pinned to the wreath.
My lord, you have said so much Of this poor wreath that I was bold enough To take it down, if but to guess what flowers Had made it; and I find a written scroll That seems to run in rhymings. Might I read?
COUNT.
Ay, if you will.
LADY GIOVANNA.
It should be if you can.
